Rem Rieder is a media columnist for USA TODAY. / USA TODAY

by Rem Rieder, USA TODAY

by Rem Rieder, USA TODAY

That's because the New Jersey governor's overarching strength is located perilously close to his Achilles heel.

Christie's appeal stems from the fact that he is forceful, direct, blunt - and visceral. He comes across as authentic. He says what he thinks and feels, and doesn't worry whether it's politically correct or if it hurts somebody's feelings. And when he wants something, better stay out of his way.

In an era when so many politicians seem paralyzed by fear of offending their base, when so many responses are so predictable, when talking points and staying on message are the coin of the realm, there's something refreshing about someone who has a little loose cannon in his arsenal.

The ultimate good Christie was on display in the wake of Superstorm Sandy. The governor, whose love of the Jersey Shore in general, and Seaside Heights in particular, is real and deep, was more than willing to embrace President Obama - optics be damned - when the president moved quickly to help the shore.

But the bad Christie has never been far from the surface. There's a fine line between tough and too tough. And for certain personality types, it can be awfully hard to negotiate.

It's one thing to tell sun worshipers to "get the hell off the beach" when Hurricane Irene is bearing down on Asbury Park. That's intelligent, if unvarnished, leadership.

Last week, Christie found himself engulfed in a scandal about a traffic disaster in Fort Lee pettily triggered by his people about a perceived political slight. At a marathon press conference, he declared, with echoes of that classic Richard Nixon moment, "I am not a bully." But all-seeing YouTube suggests otherwise.

Christie insists he knew nothing about his aides' decision to shut down lanes of the George Washington Bridge in apparent retaliation for the Democratic mayor of Fort Lee's refusal to endorse him in his re-election contest last year. Never mind that Christie is a Republican.

When a situation he made light of closer to the event exploded into a high-profile scandal that has put his political future in jeopardy, the governor was quick to throw two top aides under the bus.

But as The New York Times detailed in December, Christie has quite a history of exacting revenge on those who cross him.

Christie confronted the potentially disastrous situation head-on last Thursday. But he's hardly out of the woods. In politics, image is all. Christie's two-fisted Jersey Guy persona has served him well, winning him a second term as governor in a landslide and vaulting to the top of 2016 Republican presidential possibilities.

But images can morph, and if the notion that Christie is a vengeful brute sets in, that's a serious branding problem.

You also have to wonder how the notoriously thin-skinned Christie would fare under the bright lights and merciless scrutiny of a presidential campaign, where every misstep can rapidly become the cable- and Internet-fueled flaplet du jour.

Meanwhile, the Bridge Too Narrow is not going away any time soon. A committee of the New Jersey Assembly is going to investigate. If it comes out that Christie knew more than he's saying, that's huge, given his unequivocal denials. Already, half of the residents of New Jersey don't believe him, according to a new poll.

While it's clearly too soon to count out the combative governor, one thing is true: He faces a Chris Christie-size problem.